


Sweet Dreams

by LadyWallace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Rowena, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rowena and Sam friendship, Rowena is part of the team, Sam has Nightmares, Shared Trauma, Tag to 14x17, but AU for obvious reasons, whether she knows it or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: Just because someone is dead doesn't mean their memories can't haunt you. Sam's nightmares have come back with a vengeance, but an unlikely party may have a solution. Post 14x17 but AU





	Sweet Dreams

"Hey, Sam."

Sam jolted in bed, looking up into the face of his deepest, darkest, personal torment. "Nick?" he asked cautiously. "You're dead."

"I am," Nick said, then his eyes flashed red. "But I'm not Nick."

Sam's heart seized in his chest. He tried to move, get out of the bed, but the sheets tangled around him, wrapping around his wrists and ankles to hold him down as Lucifer smirked.

"Y-you're dead too," Sam stuttered. "Dean killed you."

"Am I ever really dead, Sammy?" Lucifer cocked an eyebrow. "You know I'm not—especially in here." He reached out and tapped Sam's head sharply, in the same spot Nick had done his level best to bash his skull in only days before. Sam flinched, and closed his eyes.

"It's not real. You're not real."

Lucifer sighed and plunked down on the bed, playing with the knife Sam kept on the bedside table. "See, you know I get so tired of you saying things like that, Sam; you hurt my feelings. And you know what happens when you hurt my feelings." He grinned and traced the knife down Sam's throat. "I hurt you."

Sam cried out as the blade sliced into him…

~~~~~~~

" _Sammy!"_

Sam jolted, drawing a sharp breath and grasping at the person standing over him like a lifeline.

Dean nearly toppled onto the floor beside him. "Whoa, easy, easy, kiddo, it's only a dream."

Sam looked around, still gripping Dean's arms tightly and realized he was on the ground beside his bed, sheets tangled around his legs. Dean extricated one of his arms gently and started to try and free Sam.

Sam simply sat back against the side of the bed, knees drawn to his chest, head in his hands. It had been a week since he'd slept without nightmares. Not that he'd gotten much decent sleep at all since, well, since Dean said yes to Michael, but the Lucifer dreams at least hadn't been as prevalent since the archangel had been killed. Now though, the whole thing with Nick—especially when the psycho had tried to kill Sam—had started it all up again. It didn't matter that Nick was dead. His actions—his attempt to bring Lucifer _back_ … Sam couldn't even fathom what would have happened then. Except that Lucifer would have had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted with them without an apocalypse looming to stop him from taking his own sweet time.

Dean silently sat beside him, their shoulders touching; a silent, familiar support. "I know there's nothing we can do about this, but you've gotta sleep, man. Have something to drink."

"I've tried," Sam replied wearily, running a hand through his hair. "I tried a nightcap, I tried sleeping pills…it doesn't help, it just makes it harder to wake up when…" He trailed off and bit his lip, wringing his hands as the helpless terror of his dream surged over him again.

Dean watched him, also helpless. It wasn't like he was sleeping well either. He still had nightmares about Michael, about drowning, trapped in his own body. If it wasn't Sam who woke up screaming it was Dean. If any of the other hunters happened to be there, Sam was sure they were getting tired of it.

Dean clapped him on the knee. "Well, maybe watch some Netflix, get your mind off of it. But try to get a little sleep, Sammy. Maybe we should take a break. A week maybe? We could all use that."

Sam sighed. "And give myself more time to think about everything? No way."

"Fair enough." Dean shrugged then stood with a grunt. "But you may want to get off the floor. I think we're getting too old for this."

Sam huffed a soft laugh. "You mean _you're_ getting too old for this. I actually exercise."

"Hey, yoga has no practical application to hunting, you can't blame me for not wanting to contort my body into shapes it was not meant to be in."

"It's good for you," Sam told him.

"Whatever," Dean grunted. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Dean left and Sam was once again alone with his dark thoughts and the memories of Lucifer and now Nick. He sighed as he sat on his bed again. He hated it so much right now. He hated how tired his body was and how his head ached. How much coffee he had to consume daily just to keep going. He knew this wasn't sustainable, but if he couldn't stop having nightmares, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

_~~~~~~~_

_Rowena was staying in the bunker_ for a few days, helping the Winchesters on a hunt. She had been doing that more than she wanted to admit lately, getting far too involved—just like Fergus. And it would likely be the death of her too, eventually. Especially since Sam was supposed to be the one to kill her.

Rowena sighed as she threw her bag onto the too-hard bed, not enjoying the thought of spending another night under something other than silk sheets. She could have gone back to her place, of course, but it had been a long few days and she didn't feel like making the effort. And really, with the Winchesters' track record lately, chances were they would have another hunt by tomorrow. And would require her help. That just seemed to be the way things were going lately.

She dressed for bed, resigned, and braced herself to spend another night in the cold, drafty bunker. The Men of Letters apparently didn't enjoy comfort overmuch.

She slipped on a sleep mask, trying to forget where she was and was just about to drop off to sleep when a strangled yell echoed through the halls.

Rowena snatched her mask off with a sigh. "Here we go again."

She was going to roll over and attempt to sleep again, thinking she should invest in some earplugs as well, but another cry sounded out and doors opened. She heaved another sigh and hauled herself out of bed. Probably best to at least show some concern if nothing else.

Dean's door, next to hers, was open but he wasn't inside. Rowena glanced down the hall where she could hear movement and saw Sam's door opened as well.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice spoke.

Castiel and Jack were already standing in the hallway and Rowena moved to join them, arms hugged across her chest in the cool air.

"Well?" she demanded, "What is it?" But Castiel glared at her and moved forward to guide her back to her room.

But not before Rowena glanced into Sam's room.

Dean was leaning over him, a hand gripping his shoulder as Sam shuddered, his head buried in his hands, residual terror from some nightmare gripping him and reducing the typically stalwart hunter to a wee child. Rowena's mouth opened, concern eking into her despite herself. She'd seen the younger Winchester low before, but this? She had a feeling there was only one thing that could reduce Sam Winchester to this level.

Castiel took her elbow and pulled her along. "Leave them," he said softly, reaching out to close the door, to give the brothers some privacy while Dean tried to offer what comfort he could to his younger sibling.

"Is it Lucifer?" Rowena asked as they walked back down the hall, knowing well enough, better than anyone maybe.

Castiel gave a small nod. "After everything…what happened with Nick—Sam's nightmares have returned."

"Lucifer never really goes away," Rowena said quietly, more to herself than the angel.

"No," Castiel replied grimly. "He doesn't."

So that was why Sam had mostly just been researching every night at the motel on the case. He couldn't sleep. As much as she hated to admit she had anything in common with those flannel wearing, gun-slinging hunters, Rowena understood. When Lucifer had shown her his true face, when he had killed her… Rowena hadn't slept for weeks. It was bad enough that she saw the unnamable terror every time she closed her eyes, burned into the backs of her eyelids, but in unconsciousness, she couldn't tell herself the devil was gone.

But she had eventually come up with something to help her sleep. She might still see Lucifer in her waking nightmares, but at the very least, she could give herself some nights free of him. Perhaps she could do the same for Sam.

Och, she was going soft for those boys. But it was really in her best interests, at least that was what she would tell herself. After all, the more she did for them, Sam especially, perhaps there would be fewer reasons for him to kill her.

She would have to collect a few ingredients that she didn't think were at the bunker, but she could do that tomorrow and then she would make sure that Sam Winchester slept again. It was better for all their sakes.

_~~~~~~~_

_Rowena left early the next morning_ and went back to her place. There, she set to work, putting together a concoction that would help Sam with his nightmares. Really, all of the boys could use it, but Sam in particular was in need right now. Maybe is she was feeling generous later, she would share the spell.

She finished compiling it and wrapped the ingredients up into a hexbag. She debated waiting to pass it on until the next time they called her in to help on a hunt, but all her sleepless, terror-filled nights came back to her and she decided just to go back to the bunker. Sam didn't need this on top of everything else.

Sam, as it turned out, was the one who opened the door when she got there, of course. One could never do anything nice for someone in secret. He seemed surprised to see her, if not extremely tired.

"Hey, I didn't know you were coming," he said.

"Oh, well, I forgot something," Rowena said, putting on airs. "This bunker really is a menace."

"Well, come on in," Sam told her, stepping aside and smothering a yawn.

Rowena reached out and touched his arm. "Samuel, you'll do no one good if you don't rest," she chided.

"Yeah, well, I'm not having much luck with that right now. Hopefully before long I'll be able to sleep again. Or I'll get Cas to just knock me out or something."

Rowena sighed. "I suppose whatever works for you." She slipped past him and went toward the dormitory wing. She glanced around to make sure no one was there, then ducked into Sam's room.

She pulled the hexbag out of her pocket and bent to carefully tuck it under Sam's mattress. He never needed to know it was there. She straightened up and made a quick retreat…

Only to bump directly into the tall Winchester.

"What are you…?" Sam asked, then looked at his bed, frowning as he pushed past her, grabbing his pillows before bending to pull up the mattress, revealing the hexbag. His eyes widened as he pulled it out, holding it up accusingly. "Rowena, what the hell is this?"

Rowena sighed. "Well, I was hoping to leave it without notice, but if you must know, it's to help you sleep. Without dreams."

Sam frowned, his brow lowering, looking skeptical as he turned to hexbag around cautiously. "If there was really something that could do that, I'm sure I would have found it by now."

"Well, maybe that's because it's my own spell," she told him then sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "After Lucifer…I needed something to take the edge off. I didn't sleep well for weeks. I tried several different things and finally settled on this. It's not perfect, obviously—it doesn't make you forget completely. But I can promise that you'll have a dreamless sleep if you put it under your bed or pillow."

Sam shifted slightly, still seeming torn.

"It's safe, Sam," Rowena assured him softly. "I promise I use it myself. I'll give you a list of ingredients if you want."

"Why do you care?" Sam asked.

Rowena rolled her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, I've been sticking around. Maybe I've made a mistake, but I'm growing rather…acquainted. Despite my better judgement."

Sam cracked a tired smile and rubbed a hand over his face, practically oozing exhaustion.

"You need to sleep, Sam. It will help."

"Alright," Sam said and gave her another small, tired smile. "I'll try it."

"I think it would be best for everyone," she told him. "I for one would like to know that you're not going to simply fall asleep on a hunt. If I'm going to be roped into hunting with you anyway. I don't work with people a lot and when I do I like to know I can trust them."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I can respect that."

Rowena smiled and clasped her hands. "Well, I really need to be going. Try to wait a few days before you feel the need to call me again."

Sam huffed a laugh. "I guess that's fair." She went to move past him but Sam caught her arm. "Rowena…thank you."

She raised her eyebrows, pretending surprise. "Och, I never thought I'd see the day when a Winchester thanked me. You had best see if it works first." She slipped past him, raising a hand. "Sweet dreams, Samuel."

Sam smiled and held up his hand in farewell.

Rowena left the bunker and headed home. She didn't want to admit she felt better for her good deed, but, maybe she did. Maybe she was being pulled more and more over to the side of the Winchesters and their broken little family, despite her best attempts to stay away. Maybe it was time to admit it was pointless even to try.

_~~~~~~~_

_That night, Sam got ready_ for bed and glanced down at the hexbag he had left on the bedside table. He still wasn't entirely sure about it—he'd had so many bad experiences with hexbags, he was wary of putting one under his pillow to sleep. But he was also desperate enough to take a chance, and, well, he'd worked with Rowena enough lately to at least start to trust her. Besides, he felt bad for keeping Dean and everyone else in the bunker up with his constant cries in the night. Rowena was right; it was better for everyone that he sleep. He wasn't sure he fully believed the hexbag would work, but he'd give it a go. And if Rowena meant him any harm by it, they would figure that out later.

So he tucked it under his pillow and laid down, curling onto his side as he closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure exactly what he had been expecting, whether it would make him feel different or whatever, but he simply closed his eyes, and then woke up the next morning, well rested.

Dean found him making coffee. The elder Winchester stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his face.

"Dude, did you even sleep at all?" he asked, and the question was valid since he hadn't been woken up by Sam screaming from his nightmares.

"Yeah…I actually slept all night."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? No nightmares?"

"Nope," Sam shook his head.

"How?"

"Rowena," Sam said simply. "She, uh, she left me a hexbag for dreamless sleep."

"You sure?" Dean asked cautiously, a protective look on his face. "You ask her what was in it?"

"Yeah, don't worry, Dean, I'm not hexed, I'm just actually well rested," Sam chuckled slightly.

"Huh," Dean replied. "Well, good for her, I'm glad it worked."

"Me too," Sam said.

"I guess it's a good thing she stuck around then."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I think it was."

Maybe someday Rowena would count herself a friend like Sam had started to count her. Stranger things had happened, after all.

 


End file.
